Robin Hood And The Black Monks Of Kirklees
by Nightvision-uk
Summary: All should have been well once Robin Hood was knighted, yet a terrifying plague has come to Sherwood Forest - Who are the mysterious Black Monks?rnInspired by traditional stories, Costner-free zone.
1. The Plague

_ This is my first attempt at any kind of extended writing, ever. I was lucky enough to live in a wooded area when I was growing up and always played Robin Hood with my friends. Many many stories were born in this time, and I hope you will enjoy this one: okay there are gaps in the story and various other bits and pieces needing improvement, and some seriously laughable language inconsistencies, but I hope you will see past that and enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it._

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_**The Plague**

After his knighthood by Good King Richard of England, history books would have us believe Robin Hood abandoned Sherwood forest to live the life of a Noble. This is not true. Instead, there was a black period of history which defied all the beliefs of the Robin Hood Chroniclers and they never recorded it for fear of losing their reputations. Now ancient papers written by Friar Tuck have come to light thanks to one of his traceable ancestors. As with much Archaic language, it would be difficult to read were it not for the efforts of my correspondent, who insists on his anonymity. I present the tale here.

Shortly after the exile and death of Prince John, it was rumoured that he had made a pact with the Devil to lay a curse on the land. The once bustling villages skirting Nottingham feel silent as their inhabitants fell to the plague.

A very strange plague this was: For one thing, the victims all sickened and died gradually, some lasting days, others months. Some families lost a daughter only, other families remained untouched. Each victim wasted away, they lost weight, lost energy and sickened and died overnight. It was unlike anything that had ever been seen before, there was no coughing, a minimum of delirium, and a red cluster of spots on the neck. Some thought the end of the world had come to pass, yet they still carried about their lives as best they could.

Robin and his merry men remained well in their forest stronghold, but the atmosphere between them was tainted. They had seen great changes through Robin's knighthood - they were now appointed guardians of the forest - but it was plain to see that they missed their former life and the excitement of meting out social justice. There were more disagreements than usual, perhaps because they no longer had to fight to survive, and great uneasiness about the unknown sickness that had claimed so many around them.

One night, as they lay around the council fire, listening to the sounds of the forest, Will Scarlett brought the news they had long been dreading.

"The plague has reached Long Eaton," he said, and slumped by the fire.

"What, within three leagues of here?" exclaimed Robin, "And thou hast family there, Little John?"

Little John said nothing in reply.

"Would now be the time, leader, to disband the Merry men?" asked Will Stutely, the youngest member of the group.

"Nay," replied Robin. "We shall never disband. Two kings did not separate us, and neither shall pestilence. But preparation must be made for its coming. We must take to the trees, for plague travels on the ground. We must take water only from the Virgin's well, and we must be mindful of each other."

"What of Lady Marian? Has aught been heard of her?"

"Will Stutely, your young tongue dares utter the questions that your elders fear to ask. She tends the sick in Nottingham. There is no danger there."

"Robin," Will Scarlett interrupted. "It has reached Nottingham too. The Sheriff has called a curfew."

It should be explained that the Sheriff was returned to his former post after paying many fines to the crown. His hard methods of government were a thing of the past, yet no-one respected him as a man any more.

"There will be no travelling to Nottingham. Lady Marian has knowledge enough to keep herself safe." No-one present really believed Robin's words, and could see the concern in his eyes, but there were other things to consider.

"Then there will be no more allowance from the king, since Nottingham is where we receive it. Let us return to the old ways. Corruption breeds in a time of need. The paupers of the villages will need us more than ever."

Friar Tuck's suggestion was met with murmurs of approval, yet Robin himself neither agreed nor disagreed. He took himself off to sleep under the trees without another word passing from his lips, and in the morning when they looked for him, he was gone.

"He has gone to find Marian," said Tuck, and the others thought that was probably true. " God knows, when a man marries, his place is with his wife."

They went about rebuilding their tree homes, just as they had done many years before, when they had first come together.


	2. Marian

**Marian**

Robin, had, indeed set off in search of his love. She had never really adapted to the hard forest-dwellers life, and had returned to Nottingham, soon after their marriage. She had dedicated herself to care of the sick, and although still skilled with weaponry, never imagined she would have cause to need to use it again.

The Sheriff still pursued her after a fashion, but she was careful not to spend too much time in his presence. King Richard had left her with a retinue of Ladies in Waiting and Guards and they served to inform the king of her progress. The Sheriff dared not offend her in their presence, although she still lived in the castle.

The night of Robin's departure, she found herself willing him to her anyway. She was distraught at all the death she had witnessed, and sat by the window feeling utterly alone, and helpless to prevent the suffering. Apart from the curfew, other changes had taken place in the town.

Now there were an order of Monks resident, who never spoke, and wore black robes with hoods so deep you could not see their faces. The sheriff was grateful for their presence reasoning that extra clergy were useful with so many requesting the last rites. Yet Marian had not seen them do any works of good…they were at every house where death could be found, but no-one remembered what they had said or how they had helped. Most of the victims died at night and the Black Monks did not observe the curfew for this reason, but their presence made Marian uneasy, and she resolved to find out more.

She called her maid, Hannah, to her.

"Hannah, if you are not about to seek your bed, I would have a word."

"My lady?"

"Knowest thou the origin of these holy men who have lately come to tend to our dying?"

" I heard tell they were at the Priory of Kirklees before they came here, my lady."

"And what did they there?"

"None can tell, my lady, and I, for my part, don't like them."

"You are not alone in that, Hannah. What doth my cousin the Sheriff say?"

" He says that they remain here until the worst of the plague is gone."

"As I thought – but – do they answer to him?"

"Nay, My lady, they say they only answer to God."

"Oh, so they do have tongues, do they? I wish I could tell what it is that unsettles me, but, thank you Hannah, you may go –except, will you bring me a cloak of the same nature as these monks robes?"

"You cannot think to go out after the curfew!"

"Now, Hannah,"

"Yes my Lady, but I pray you, do take care!"

Hannah scuttled out, and returned a few moments later with a cloak. Marian wrapped it around her and lifted the trapdoor under her bed which afforded her an exit from the castle known only to herself.


	3. Shadows Within Shadows

**Shadows within Shadows**

Robin followed the worn track to Nottingham. From habit he kept to the edge, ready to dart into the trees if needed. Only the moon riding full in the sky lit his way, and he felt himself glad that he would soon see Marian again.

The forest had always been his home, and he sang to himself gaily as he made his way, feeling the reassuring weight of his quiver of arrows at each step. It was a perfect night for deer.

After a mile or so, he slowed his step, as a strange feeling came over him, banishing all thoughts of love and better days from his mind.

He had never feared the forest, and he had no reason to fear it, yet tonight he did, and could not say why. No nightingales sang in the trees, and no crickets chirped in the darkness. The forest began to feel unknown to him – he sensed danger was near, and swung up into a birch tree to wait. Even the very wind, it seems, was stilled for that moment.

A figure was moving silently down the track towards him, The figure was as black as the silhouettes of the trees. As it glided closer and closer, Robin felt the hairs on the back of his neck stiffen. In all his life he had been afraid of no man or superstition, but this form, silent and tall and thin as it was seemed to have stepped out of his darkest dreams.

A Monk, it was, as the moonlight shone upon it, with full hood, and its arms met in front of it under great sleeves. It drifted onwards, alone, silent, and then stopped under the tree where Robin hid.

Robin reached back, his fingers grasping the feather of an arrow flight, even though he had never killed a holy man, and had no reason to, he only knew that this man did not belong in the forest, and perhaps not even upon the earth itself.

Time passed and nothing moved, not the Monk, Robin himself, or the branches of the trees in which he hid.

The Monk knew he was there, of that he was sure, and meant him some ill intent. No words were spoken but the Monk radiated malignity all the same.

"What Devil's work is this?" Robin wondered. "Why is my tongue tied and my arm frozen thus? I have been enchanted."

Whispered words drifted up from the base of the tree, in a crackling tone, like that of someone very old.

"Shoot thy Arrow, Child of the Forest. Thy Arrows cannot harm me."

With that, the figure moved on, and Robin found his courage again. He lowered himself down to see the monk, only a few steps away, become as indistinct as smoke. Then an icy breeze passed through him, and the monk simply melted away into nothing.

Robin crossed himself, knowing not what else to do, and it was a while before he felt ready to continue onwards towards Nottingham.


	4. Marian Turns Spy

**Marian turns Spy**

Marian moved as stealthily as she could towards the house of the Captain Of The Guards. Earlier that day, she had tended his son, and for all her efforts did not expect him to live the night. As a precaution, she had brought her bronze dagger, it was tucked into her girdle. She did not fear Violence. More fearful was she of the thin sallow face of the ten year old child. who was even now dying of the unknown scourge. The death of a child touches all who witness it, from the bravest warrior to the eldest man who thinks himself acquainted with death. Now she was at the window of the sick room, where the boy's mother tended him with tears.

The boy had no energy to cry, all that could be heard was a harsh breathing, and the low sobs of the mother. Soon they subsided. The woman, drained with emotion, feel asleep with her head touching that of her child.

Marian felt a tear escape her own eye. She wondered how God could allow such sadness to afflict her country.

The boy's breathing became even more laboured, the end was near, but he seemed distressed by something else…Marian followed his gaze across the shabby room, and saw what she had come to see. The Black Monk was approaching.

Marian felt her heart beating so rapidly and loud she was sure it would betray her. She had never been so close to one of them before, and had not expected the Monk's appearance to frighten her so. The Holy Brothers she had met before all carried an aura of peace about them, but this one did not. It made her think of an executioner, with its dark hood and the solemn yet purposeful way in which it closed in on the sick child.

The boy's breathing increased to fever pitch, and yet the mother did not wake. Marian felt she had to do something, anything, to warn the mother, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to move, just as Robin had felt himself immobilized in the tree.

The boy's face was set in a rictus of horror as he summoned up the strength to cry "no, no!"

The Black Monk reached for him – and seized the back of his neck, lifting the little head from the pillow, and then, the monk bent down, its hood enveloping the boy's face, locking them both in some terrible embrace. The boy's arms jerked but once, and fell down to the mattress. The boy was dead.

Marian felt faint with shock, but she was hardier than most females. Her fists was fixed against the wall beside the window she looked through, steadying her in case she fell.

The Monk turned its attention to the sleeping Mother. Now Marian knew why the mother slept so heavily. The Monk had been to her too, but her share of the Plague was not visible yet. Perhaps this latest visit of the Monk would render her as weak as her son, perhaps not. Marian understood now, how they worked, only taking a little sustenance at a time lest their true intentions be discovered.

"I must find someone to help," she thought. "It must be a priest or holy man…if they will see the truth in my words."

She dared not look into the window again, lest she be struck helpless again. She made haste to the castle, and resolved to see the priest first thing in the morning.


	5. A Return To happier Pursuits

**A Return To Happier Pursuits**

The rebuilding of the Outlaw's camp was going well. They often joked that every man would be happier living in a tree with the birds.

"And some birds sing a sweeter song than others," laughed Friar Tuck, which immediately brought him to wondering how Robin fared in his search for Marian.

"I do not think it was a great wisdom to leave so suddenly," muttered Little John.

"Robin knows best, and think of the sweet bower he will be bringing his bride home to" replied Much the Millers son, laying his hand against the trunk of his chosen abode.

"I wish I were of such good cheer." Said John, gravely. "I do not expect to see my kin again."

They had forgotten, in their enjoyment of building, the dark situation all around.

"The plague shall not reach us here," offered the Friar." And friend John, if my free speech has caused you pain, I am truly sorry."

"I shall be the more happier when Robin returns to us again."

"As shall we all."

"And in good health," Little John added, "Come, let us find a Doe worthy of roasting."

The men, ten in all, gathered their bows, leaving Will Stutely and The Friar to keep watch at home, promising them both first share of the meat if they could uncover some wine in the meantime.

It was with much regret that Will discovered they had long since finished the last barrel, and he debated with Tuck what to do next.

"By heaven they will be as sour as the dregs in this barrel if we do not have wine before sunset!" Friar Tuck lamented.

"Does Marcus D'Alencon still ferry his casks to Nottingham?" asked Will.

"Thou Gift of the heavens! I had forgot! How oft have we relieved him of his wares on this very road!"

"I feel sure I can relieve him of still more, if you trust me," offered Will, excited at the prospect of finally proving himself a man.

"What, boy? Alone?"

"He will never see me, I will swoop down like an eagle and carry off a cask as he makes his way in that new cart. He fears loss of business more than he fears the plague. I heard his cart this morning, it has a loose wheel. He will return soon"

Friar Tuck was unsure. He knew Robin would never allow it, yet the prospect of Wine from D'Alencon's fine cellars was too great an opportunity to miss.

"Mark me, If I see you not by sunset, then think not to return at all."

"Aye!" Will nodded eagerly, and gathered his own bow, and ran away between the trees.

But Will did not return at sunset.


End file.
